


Summer Pornathon Challenge #7

by kattale



Category: Merlin (TV), SCA
Genre: M/M, Summer Pornathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattale/pseuds/kattale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2012 Summer Pornathon for Challenge #7, "Non-Penetration".</p><p>A massage between young friends turns into something more, at an annual SCA event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Pornathon Challenge #7

**Author's Note:**

> This was my favourite of my Pornathon Entries, and the one that generated the most spin-off fantasies as I lay in bed at night. (The gargoyle and ironman stories were my next favourites, I'm fairly indifferent to the others.)
> 
> To meet the 750 word requirement, I had to cut 1300 words of accurate SCA backstory, 300 words of character development, and 150 words of the porn. I have a whole world going on in the background here - the long history of Arthur & Merlin's families and their role as kings and barons in the SCA, the efforts needed for UK Drachenwald people to bring their gear and camping equipment overseas to the Pennsic War, the friendship between Arthur and Merlin (and their co-dependence), Arthur's arrogant playboy prattishness and belief that the world revolves around him while Merlin exists solely to stroke Arthur's ego, and Arthur's distress when he realises that Merlin has quietly and unassumingly gone on to make a life and relationship for himself, without consulting Arthur. 
> 
> It's really a story about Arthur, and his complex and complicated feelings for Merlin, but all that got cut in favour of this sweet little vignette about how Percival sees the magic in Merlin and thinks it worth his time to draw him out of golden-boy Arthur's shadow. I like to think I packed a generous dollop of the backstory into one 50-word paragraph. 
> 
> This was the best challenge to write, because I had to convey so much in so few words, every word counted. Such a learning experience, and so much fun.

Pornathon Entry #7, Prompt = Non-Penetration

Modern AU, Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA), Pennsic War

Warnings: Lack of communication could be construed as Dub-Con

 

Merlin staggered into the Drachenwald encampment, dropping Arthur’s shield onto the pile of armour beside their dome-tent. Stripping off his tunic, he collapsed on his cot. “Gods, Perc, I’m wrecked.” He rotated his shoulder. “Every inch of me aches. I swear Arthur thinks I’m his personal squire.” He’d spent the day at Pennsic’s Woods Battle, squiring for the newly authorized Arthur and trudging up Runestone Hill repeatedly to retrieve things Arthur had forgotten.

Percival squeezed Merlin’s shoulder. “Arthur treats you more like a servant than a best-friend, Merlin,” he commented. “You’re a mess. C’mere, shall I rub your shoulders?”

Merlin crossed his arms self-consciously across his narrow chest. “You don’t mind?”

Percival smiled reassuringly and nudged him over onto his front. “Looks like you need it.”

Percival’s hands were tentative at first, thumbs running along Merlin’s bony spine, fingers squeezing his shoulders and stroking his back. As Merlin relaxed, sighing happily, Percival’s strokes grew more confident. He worked in silence, zeroing in on Merlin’s worst knots, pressing soothing circles until they released. He worked slowly down Merlin’s back, only pausing when he reached Merlin’s waistband.

Percival drew away, and Merlin must have whined a little, because the hands returned to Merlin’s legs, working his sore muscles from calves to thighs.

Oh.

That was... nice.

Warmth radiated from Percival’s strong hands. Merlin had no idea thighs could be so sensitive - every stroke felt – marvelous. He couldn’t help arching into the touch. Percival roamed higher, palms squeezing, thumbs dipping briefly to stroke between Merlin’s thighs. When he reached the curve of Merlin’s bottom, he froze. Merlin moaned, rolling against him until Percival’s wide hands fit themselves over the rounds of Merlin’s backside, kneading softly.

Percival made a choked sound, shifting suddenly to straddle Merlin’s thighs. Merlin could feel the heat of Percival’s chest where it barely touched his back, could feel his hair stir under Percival’s breath. Then, so lightly he was barely sure it was happening, he felt the graze of wool trousers against his hose, the outline of Percival’s hardness sliding along the crease between his cheeks. So gentle, so slow.

Merlin half-expected to be crushed beneath Percival’s broad frame, but the larger boy leaned on his hands, the only contact an ever-so-gentle stroking of Percival’s hips against Merlin’s thighs, over and over. Merlin sobbed silently – it felt SO good. Every stroke fired needles of pleasure from scalp to toes. His entire groin felt about to explode. He bit his lip in the aching indecision between grinding down into the cot, or arching back against Percival’s hips. A tingling crept out from his balls and he couldn’t contain a groan of anticipation – the sudden certainty that he was going to come – his first orgasm with someone else. It was like the feeling of a storm on the horizon, a magical spell about to be released.

Percival’s breath was heavy on his neck; Merlin could feel his arms trembling; see the tension in the hands bracketing his shoulders. Merlin ground his hips back as high as he could, squeezing his thighs. With a muffled gasp, Percival suddenly stilled, pressed hard against Merlin’s ass, pinning him. Merlin felt the boy’s cock twitch through the confines of his trousers, then a hot wetness trickled down Merlin’s crack. He had time to think, “Gods, he’s coming! I made him come!” before his body reacted and he ground down, soaking his bedding with the waves of his release. Heart pounding, he collapsed on his cot like a rag-doll.

The warm weight of Percival pulled away, leaving a too-cool space in his wake. “Oh gods, Merlin, I’m sorry.” Percival’s strangled distress was evident. “I…” He broke off.

Merlin rolled over. Percival looked mortified, about to bolt. “Hey!” He caught Percival’s hand. “Gods, no, Percival, why would you apologize? That was… I’ve – never felt anything like it. It was the most amazing thing I’ve done, ever!” He couldn’t hold back the wide, blissed-out smile that crept across his face.

Percival’s face slowly lit up. “You really didn’t mind…? I don’t know what I thought I was doing…”

“Well,” Merlin said, tugging Percival back to the cot. “Whatever it was, I hope you’ll do more of it.” He grinned up at Percival. “It was utterly fucking brilliant.” Cupping Percival’s neck, he moved in for a slow kiss.

And if Arthur walked in to find them still kissing hours later, well, he was just going to have to deal with it. He didn’t OWN Merlin, after all.


End file.
